The Brothel | By : Foraoo Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Savage Garden Views: 2659 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Savage Garden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter 18-
I fled from the office, stumbling as I ran. Tears streamed down my face and the heart wrenching pain that threatened to devour me whole brought me to my knees. Damian’s confession swarmed my mind, making me feel physically sick. All this time he’d known, and done nothing.
My sobs tore from my body and I kneeled there, inches from where the two boys fell. “No, no, no…” I moaned over and over.
“Darren? What’s wrong? Darren!” Jonathon ran to me, took me in his arms, even rocked me like a child and still I repeated my mantra.
“Elijah…oh god I’m so sorry.” My voice was thick with grief.
“Tell me, Darren! Who’s done this to you.”
So I told him. How while Elijah lay on the bed in Damian’s office, hurt but not fatally, Paul had entered and held his fingers over the young boys nostrils. Pushed his struggling shoulders down while he fought for breath, while he fought for life. How Damian had walked in and caught those last death throes and merely stood horror stricken, like a deer in headlights. “It was the look on Paul’s face. The composed mask never slipped. God Darren, he’s evil incarnate!” Damian had said. “And what does that make you?” I replied, dully. Paul had killed Elijah to save himself. For him to live he’d need medical attention, and that created nasty little problems with secrecy regarding how he got his injuries and in that moment rather then think up a plan, he acted. Those actions resulted in an innocent’s death.
While I talked Jonathon listened intently, his face betraying nothing. When I finished he touched my cheek gently and smiled.
“We can’t stay. You realise that don’t you.” At first I stared at him but nodded solemnly.
“No we can’t.” I sighed and stood up pulling him with me. “We just can’t.”
“Who knows when we take Elijah’s place? When Paul silences us?”
“And what do you suppose we do?” I asked as we walked to his room, his arms round me for support.
“We take the money. We take it all. Withdraw the lot and salvage the rest of our lives. You know the code, Stuart’s birthday. Hell it could be yours now.”
“We can’t! Our share yes but not everyone else’s!” I cried as we entered his room.
“So? They deserve it, they killed a man Darren, there’s been more then one death caused by this house.”
“Heath and Orlando? Do they deserve it? Do you reawantwant a mob of pissed off hookers after us?” He began opening his wardrobe and throwing clothes onto the bed.
“ Fine! Point taken. Your share, my share…and Paul’s. Do we agree he deserves it?” For a moment we just looked at each other and then I felt the rage build up in my chest.
“He deserves everything he gets.” I said, almost snarling.
“That’s sorted, we leave tonight.” He pulled a brown leather suitcase from under the bed and started to fill it.
“Tonight? But that’s…”
“We’ll take one of the guest’s cars, they’ll all be steaming drunk at that party. I’ve been hot-wiring since I was six; we won’t be missed at least not until morning. But first I need you to get Damian out of his office, keep him distracted while I get in. We need what’s in that safe.” He shut the now full case with a loud snap.
“I’m not sure…” I stood and faced him, opening my mouth to speak I was silenced by a kiss.
“Be sure of this. I care for you Darren and I want to giou wou what Stuart and Lewis couldn’t. I want to give you happiness.” With that he strolled from the room leaving me as if I were the sole survivor of a hurricane. Nodding to myself I rushed to pack.
*~*~*
“All set?” Jonathon called entering the garage.
“As much as I’ll ever be.” I followed him further into driveway “Damian was too drunk to know who I was when carried him into his room.”
“Did you say goodbye?” He asked, turning to me suddenly and staring into my eyes.
“In my own way.” I whispered looking away. “I love you Damian and I forgive you.” I had soothed, kissing him on the forehead as he slept then leaving his room not daring to glance back for fear I’d break. “Did you get the money?”
“Wait, first lets pick a car.” Jonathon lovingly stroked the hood of a Mercedes.
“Eyes off.” I warned. “We want something inconspicuous not big and shiny.” I stopped as approached a small German car. “Here, this’ll do.”
“You can’t be serious?” Jonathon looked so heartbroken that in other circumstances I would have laughed. Relenting, yet grumbling, he set upon popping the lock. “I haven’t done this in so long…” He murmured. After a moment the door swung open “Like riding a bike though.” He grinned.
“Did you get the money okay?” I rephrased my question slightly while moving round to the passenger’s side.
“Well the code had changed. Had to settle for cracking the thing open. Let’s concentrate on getting away for now.” He climbed into the car and commenced to hot wire it.
“You’re childhood must have been so Walton-esque.”
“It’s my past experience in misdemeanours that’s getting us out of here.” The engine roared to life. “Here we go!”
My breath caught in my throat as we surged down the driveway. We’re doing it! We’re really doing it! As we passed through the gate I felt that long forgotten black cloud lift once again. I almost sensed Stuart’s trademark smirk boring into me.
“A little music I think?” Jonathon’s voice trembled slightly as he fingered the dials. I looked over at him as Madonna’s ‘Crazy For You’ blasted out.
“Jonny? Are you okay?” He darted me a look and then laughed nervously. “Of course I am! I’m with you, remember? I just loathe Madonna.”
“How can anyone dislike Madonna?” I cried, incredulous.
“I never said dislike, I said loathe. There’s a difference. If she’s famous in ten years time I’ll bungee jump off Big Ben.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” I whispered warmly. He turned his eyes from the road to mine.
“You think we’ll be together in ten years time?” He asked in a hopeful tone.
“I hope so…” For a moment the car was silent, an uneasy kind of quiet that unsettled me. Jonathon cleared his throat once or twice and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Darren I…I don’t know how to say this.” My heart clenched in fear. Did he want to go back? “When I busted the safe…there was no money. There were bank documents and everything and…”
“Jonathon please tell me you’re joking.” I could tell by his tone he wasn’t but I hoped against hope.
“Paul’s in the red Darren. He has more money going out then in. Any money we, any of us, have received has been paying off his debts.”
“Jesus…”
“I found some petty cash in Damian’s drawer that will get us by for a couple of weeks. After then? Well I really don’t know.” He kept his eyes on the road but the tightness of his mouth showed the strain he was under. I gripped his knee and squeezed gently.
“We’ll get by. We always do.” I grinned softly. “I’m going to get some sleep for a little while. Wake me if you need me.” He nodded and I settled down in my seat. Ignoring the knots in my stomach, trying to forget our latest predicament. After a while I began to drift off. Beneath the music I heard a small voice whispering.
“I love you Darren.”
*~*~*
“Darren!” Jonathon hissed. “Wake up now!” I stumbled out of sleep.
“Wha…Jonathon what’s going on?”
“Look in the rear-view mirror. What do you see?” I pushed myself up and strained my eyes.
“A black BMW.” My eyes widened in shock. “Paul’s black BMW! I don’t understand How did he find us?”
“I was tired as well. I pulled over, only for a minute though!” Jonathon whispered, as if Paul could hear us.
“He must know it’s us. The person whose car we stole must’ve given him a description.” I pulled open the glovebox and searched. Finding a drivers license I pulled it out. “Oh shit. It’s bloody Bono’s”
“Well I think we can guarantee we’re off his Christmas card list.” He inched the cars speed up. “Fasten your seat belt. I’m going to try to lose…” The crash into our back threw us forward.
“Christ! He’s ramming us!” I cried as we were hit again. “Hurry! Come on!”
“I can’t get control of this fucking thing!” Jonathon practically screamed. The BMW hit us in the side, my head hit the window and dazed me.
“We’re going off the road!” I saw the approaching cliff edge and my hands gripped into my seat. It had to be more then 30ft! We couldn’t survive that!
“Darren! Jump!” I turned and saw Jonathon leap from the car as we careered off. God, I had to get out. The car was air born now, below me lay the rough dirt slope I screamed as the car landed on it. My hands shaking as I struggled to loosen the belt. Please, please, please. I prayed. The belt snapped open as the car turned over. I pushed at my door as the car rolled, it swung open only to be sheared off by jagged rocks. Now! My brain screamed and I flung myself from the vehicle. The sound of a crack from my chest alarmed me as I hit the ground and I felt a rock tear the skin on my forehead. Jonathon where are you?
Over and over I rolled, until darkness blotted out the pain.
*~*~*
I felt the heat first, before opening my eyes. They felt as if coins had been placed over them. Struggling I tried to sit up, pain searing through my back. The crash replayed itself in my head, lasting hours rather then seconds. What if I’m paralysed? What about Jonathon? Hurt or dead? I tested my limbs, wriggling my toes first then bending my legs. Success. I was slightly cheered, and then I saw the burning wreckage below. I was so close! A second or two later and I’d have been in there burning to death. I fought back a gag as I thought about it. I must find Jonathon. I have to help him. The pain in my chest caused me to scream as I stood up on weak legs. Looking up I saw I’d fallen at least 30ft. Getting to the top looked like a painful prospect, but Jonny might need me, I couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Whistling through my teeth I began to climb, biting my lip against the pain. It felt like I’d spent an entire day climbing that cliff until I glanced back. It’s barely 5ft! I collapsed against a rock.
“I can’t! I’m sorry Jonathon! I’m sorry for all of you.” I sobbed, pitifully. I let the emotions drown me, overtake me and eventually leave me. I sat numb staring down at the carnage below. Wherever I went disaster followed. Stuart, Elijah and Jonathon. But they weren’t the first.
I remember the day my friend and I had gone upstairs to my room. I was so excited. He was called Ben. He was a year above me at school. A handsome, cocky sixteen year old. He was someone I hoped was more then a friend. Hidden in my room he gave me my first kiss, so distracted I never saw my father approach, never saw as his hands reach toward me. But I heard him, oh god did I hear him. He grabbed me by the arm and shook me, slapped my face and shouted abuse. Ben was terrified and ran from the house, all the while my father staring down at me with such loathing and sadness. I was his only son, his bloodline.
That was the day my father stopped loving me. He never spoke to me again. Not really. He died the following spring from heart failure. My mother blamed me, blamed the stress I caused. That was the day my mother stopped loving me.
For a while I believed her, believed I was the evil one. It became too much in the end. The memory of my father clung to the house like a claw. It choked me with guilt. I know deep down it wasn’t my fault but it doesn’t ease the grief. One day I packed my things and left. No one ever looked for me, I think in some ways it was a relief to my mother. The murderer of her husband was gone.
If I'd been paying more attention to my surroundings and less to my hormones my father never would have seen us. He, Stuart, Elijah and Jonathon would all still be safe. It was in me. Some sickening black evil that hurt others. If I ever got out of here I’d go where I was alone and couldn’t destroy the lives of others.
Then I saw it. A little red book not more then metre away from me. Careful not to antagonise my bruises I edged towards it. My fingers tentatively touched the cover and I brought it to me. It was bound by coil springs, a pen shoved into it, lidless. Opening it I whispered the opening words. “Property of Stuart Townsend.” In all the excitement I’d forgotten about the journal, never even thought of asking Jonny about it. I turned the pages slowly, eyes glazing over as I read of Stuart’s hopes, dreams and fears. It was like a whole new sideStuaStuart, one I would never see in the flesh. Then I reached the parts about me. I smiled as I saw the care and love behind his words, laughed at the occasional insult and wept as I reached the sudden end.
This man had loved me. Elijah loved me. Damian loved me. Jonathon loved me. And I sat here in pity? I had been blessed with the love of another four times over. Nothing I could ever do could take my regrets away but nothing could ever take away the love that these men had given me nor the love I felt for them. I’d wasted too much time in pity, sorrow and self-loathing. I had to return the gesture. I had to save them from the clutches of Paul. I had to go back to the Brothel.
I gripped the journal to my chest as I made my decision. Lowering it I flicked through the empty pages. I may not survive. I may not even make it there. My story had to be told. Paul’s evil had to be known. And that’s what I did. Now I reach the end. Night has fallen, climbing will be harder now but my pains have died down a little. My hand aches and only a few pages are left of the journal but it’s finished…for now.
I enclose a hand-written map back to Paul’s mansion. Whoever you are reading this. Stop this monster, do what I couldn’t.
I hope this isn’t the last entry I make but if it is:
My name is Darren Hayes I was a dumb kid who made a terrible mistake and paid dearly. I have loved and I have lost. I have had joy and sorrow. I have had wonderful moments and one’s of despair but whoever you are. Can you say I haven’t lived?
Next Instalment-Grand Finale.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo